Academy EPILOGUE
by Joel182
Summary: Academy High is now out of session. The final chapter in the Academy series is here. SLASH WARNING! UnderPunk; Shawter; Cenaton; Codiasi; and a lil' bit of JeriBourne.


**DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING SAVE THE PLOT! EVERYTHING ELSE IS OWNED BY THE GREAT VINCE MCMAHON AND WWE :D ENJOY!**

**This is it gentle readers. The end of the Academy Series :D**

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Having successfully run through another hectic school year, Academy High sets itself up for the eye of the storm in a much needed summer vacation. Many of the students as well as this year's set of graduates have left the school compound. Some linger behind, having no real home outside of their dorm rooms. Some return for what will be their final day. Most have come back on the ever open invitation of visiting the place now being referred to in the past tense.

These are their stories.

**Teacher's Pet (Epilogue**)

In the beginning, Mark Calaway hated his office. The walls were tightly jointed around the small floor space. The lone desk was too large for the tiny room, and often times –as he sat behind it in the equally over sized chair –Mark would wonder how they got it to fit through a doorway that even he had to turn slightly just to get through. For nearly his entire teaching career, Mark hated his office. However, he maintained its integrity by keeping it clutter-free, as well as expanding the window behind the desk so as to gather in more light. Such actions were not becoming of hate –and neither was the fact that for a particular five years, Mark holed up in his cramped office more often than not.

His reasoning was simple. Firstly, he had to be in this office every day between and after classes in order to complete work – carrying work home was never an option considering his then roommate in Shawn Michaels. And secondly, he had made a promise to a former student. Five years, if he came back, then instinct would tell him to come to this closet-sized office. And so, for those five years, Mark made sure that he was always present in this office.

This, of course, has already happened and it's now been one full year since then. For some students, this will be their second or third year. For some, this is their last. In Mark's case –a case he thought upon the longer he sat in his aged chair – it was the latter. Today was the last time he would ever get to sit inside this cramped office and hate the lack of space in it. And, through it all, Mark felt a tinge of sadness overwhelm him. In that moment, he decidedly threw the letter onto his now empty desk, and leaned back into the chair for comfort. A long sigh escaped him the more he dwelt on all the memories this place held and how he could possibly store them all for the next chapter in his life.

"Knock Knock." Mark sat up – swiveling his chair to face the door once he did – and cracked a smile to the ever happy face of Shawn Michaels. "Hey Mark."

"Hey Shawn." He spoke, leaning forward in order to rest his hands on the desk.

Shawn sauntered over to him, and took up residence on the edge of the board desk. "So that's it huh?" He gestured by looking at the sealed envelope staring up at them both.

Mark glanced to the object, before slightly nodding. "Yeah." He spoke solemnly. "That's it."

Shawn scoffed harshly as he folded his arms across his chest. "I never thought I'd live to see the day." His eyes slid back up to Mark's heavy jades. "You. Retiring." He scoffed again – shaking his head to each letter "Those words don't belong together."

Mark gave a light-hearted chuckle as he relaxed in his chair. "Had to happen sometime. There's no such thing as an immortal after all."

To this Shawn gave a curt nod. "I guess." He glanced back at the white envelope – taking into consideration the school's logo situated in the dead center– before placing his gentle gaze back on Mark. "So I take it you've found something you love more than teaching huh?" He smirked. "If I had to guess, I'd say his name starts with a P."

Once more, Mark chuckled to Shawn's playfulness. The blonde was always like a cat with yarn whenever it came to otherwise serious situations. "Yeah. I had to. Otherwise Hunter would have never let me retire. "The word sunk his stomach, but he merely clenched his heart to the needle-point pain and continued on. "But it's not just Phillip." To this Shawn raised his brows in intrigue. "I also think it's time to move on."

Michaels sat thinking for a moment, "Are you two still together though?"

Mark's smile extended. "Yeah, we are." He laughed for a bit upon realizing Michaels' confusion. "When I say 'move on' Shawn, I'm talking about Phillip and me. Not just me." He leaned back towards the desk and began to fiddle with the unopened envelope. "I always believed that I would be teaching forever. I love what I do, I love putting over the next generation, and the next and the next." His lids fell slightly to cover his already overcast jades. "But, one day I went home and I saw Phillip there, watching a TV show about tattoo artists in New York, and then I realized something." His eyes lifted back to Michaels. "This was never about leaving behind something I love. This was simply about location. Doing what I love in a different place."

Shawn's once confused face lightened to a smile. "So you're moving?"

Mark nodded. "Phillip's tattoo skills have been recognized nationally. Companies, agents, top tier people all come by our place to talk about expanding his business. For a while, he held them off saying that he liked it here and didn't really want to move to expand. However," His voice lowered. "I could tell he was lying. I could see it every time he watched me happily indulge in lesson planning and preparing school activities and all he had to look forward to was a small tattoo parlor in a small town, knowing his dream would likely end there." His long gone smile returned. "I can't be selfish anymore. I love him too much."

Having taken in all that Mark had to say, Shawn simply sighed loudly as he unraveled his arms, and placed his hands gently over Calaway's. "I'm going to ask you to reconsider, but I know you'd never do that." Mark gave a gentle scoff as his thumbs ran over the envelope. "So, selfishness aside, I hope this decision will be the best one you've ever made." His smile broadened, "And I hope you'll know, and you'll let Phil know that anytime" His hands clenched tightly onto Mark's "_anytime_…you're both welcome here."

Happiness wandered over Mark's expression, glazing it with the tips of its brush. His smile seemed to mirror Michaels'' in size. "Thanks." He nodded to the thought, "That means a lot."

Shawn removed his hands as he stood to his feet – giving his legs the blood they needed to dodge a cramp. "Well, I guess you've got everything you need?"

Mark stood to his feet as well – taking care to place the envelope into the outside pocket of his jacket. "Not yet." His voice bracketed as in an instant, he held Shawn tightly in his large arms. With his face stuck in the man's small shoulders, he mumbled "Thank you" before lifting himself up to smile down on the blonde. "Thank you Shawn."

Despite being taken aback by the unexpected embrace, Shawn simply returned with another one of his famous smiles. "Don't mention it pal." He gave Mark's shoulder a friendly slap. "Go terrorize the rest of the country."

Mark chuckled deeply. "I'll try my best." With that he picked up the duffel bag sat on the floor and hoisted it over his shoulder with ease, as he walked towards the door for the final time in his career here at the Academy.

"Mark" The brunette stopped shy of the door knob, and turned to face Shawn – who still stayed by the edge of the large desk. Looking back now, the room seemed to be disintegrating as though it knew that its soul in Mark Calaway was never coming back. Shawn's smile wavered any tears that wanted to stray past the emerald orbs in Mark's head. "Send me a postcard."

Calaway smiled politely, "I will." He turned to the door – opening it before stopping once more to look at Shawn in the empty office. "Take care."

With that, the brunette left entirely. Shawn simply watched until the older man's frame vanished completely from sight, before he looked back to the large black chair – so hollow and alone. His finger traced the corner of the empty desk as he walked over to the large window. Outside the blonde could clearly see the majority empty school grounds (with the exceptions in a few workers, and over-stay students wandering about). It wasn't until his eyes went further left did he spot Mark heading towards a large black sedan. The driver's door opened the moment the older man dumped the duffel bag into the trunk, to reveal a causally-dressed Phillip Brooks. Shawn watched in slight intrigue as the younger brunette walked over tentatively to the older man as though he was worried about Mark's current state of mind. His lips moved to the sound of words too far away for Shawn to truly hear, but just by sight the blonde knew Mark had cut him off when the brunette grabbed Phil up in an embrace far more intense than the friendly hug he had just received. Immediately following was a deep kiss, which left Phil visibly (even from this distance) red in the face.

The sight amused Shawn, forcing him to smile kindly to it in content. "Take care" He mumbled in a whisper as he watched the two brunettes happily jump into the car, and drive out of sight. With a simple tug, the blinds came crashing down and instantly blocked the entry of light. Michaels sighed once more, before leaving the dark room entirely – taking care to lock the door behind him.

**Frienemies (Epilogue)**

The last time he had seen it, the room seemed much larger. However, this was based on a comparison to the closets he had to live in – be it a metaphor for his room, or the very real ones Dustin used to take pleasure in shoving him into. Regardless, his once shared dorm room had seemed much larger to him back then, but time had all too soon shrunk the inanimate space – much like it had shrunk most of his memories of this place.

/They repainted./ He thought as he walked about in the small space – touching everything to remind himself of what this place had felt like. After all, for years, he had called this place – the place he once shared with his best friend – home. However, despite his sentiments, the cot bed, the sofa glued to the east wall, the three-piece bathroom – none of these things could ever make him feel at home anymore. Not when Ted was nowhere in sight. Having this knowledge made him now aware of what the proverb "you build a house, you make a home" meant. Any dorm room could easily be considered a house, but for him, not having Ted also share that space with him meant that house could never become a home.

It would lack heart, after all.

"Hey." A voice called from the nearby doorway. He looked up to see Randy Orton standing there, clad in his bike gear. "What brings you by Cody?"

To the sight of his friend, Cody smiled brightly as he ran over to the older man to lock him in a friendly hug. The older brunette returned the hug – slightly running his beard over Cody's exposed skin as he did. Once both had squeezed each other to the max, they instinctively released one another, but stuck close.

"I just felt like visiting our old school, since I was in the neighborhood and all." Cody beamed in delight.

Randy gave a very slight nod in comprehension. "Oh yeah. You're in the city now." He grinned. "How's Ted these days?"

Cody's face flinched to the name. "Um…" He chuckled nervously, "Well…"

Randy sighed to a frown. "Cody," He spoke heavily, but held the words. Rhodes watched a bit frightened, before Randy's hand came up to pat him on the head. His smile returned lastly. "Are you done here?"

"Yeah." Cody replied slightly confused.

Randy's smile evolved. "How about we go for a ride?"

Cody smiled in initial response. "Okay." He instantly stopped. "Wait, isn't John with you?"

To this, Randy looked away nervously. "Well, no. Not really." He scratched the side of his beard to ward off some of his fraying nerves. "I kinda came up here for the same reasons as you."

"I see." Cody spoke in a solemn tone.

Randy looked back to the younger man, before wrapping an arm around his shoulder and dragging him out of the small room. The pair wordlessly exited the building and only held a tinge of conversation when Cody asked for Randy's help in properly suiting up to become his bike passenger. The older brunette laughed at Rhodes' painful incompetence when it came to merely riding a motorbike, but soon the passing winds took the joy out of their sails once silence returned.

It was Cody who decidedly brought back a conversation. "You asked me about Ted." He stated. Due to being positioned in front with his eyes on the road, Randy was unable to see what kind of expression Rhodes held on his face. However, having known the man for over a decade now, Orton easily deduced the correct result. Rhodes' expression was teetering between worry and sadness. He truly had a lot on his mind. "He's angrier than before."

"Hmm." Randy replied inside his helmet. "What's eating the spoiled Prince this time?"

Cody tightened his grip on Randy's sculpted waist, and buried his helmeted head into Randy's board back. "Me." He whimpered.

"You – Hold on, we're turning." To the instruction, Cody held tighter as Randy smoothly took the sharp bend to place the bike on the busy highway. Once steadied, Randy continued his speech. "What's he mad at you for?" His gloved hands tightened on the handlebars, "Don't tell me he's been blaming you for what happened back then."

"He's not." Cody's soft voice carved through Randy's skin-tight leather jacket. "We were trying to have sex, but every time he touches me, I can't help but get scared and start shaking like a leaf." He buried his head to the limits. "I wish I could just get over it. It's been so long since that incident, and even longer since Ted showed interest in me again. Why can't I just do it?"

Randy stayed silent for a while – listening to Cody's staggered sobbing – as he steadied his focus on the bit of traffic up ahead. After a long moment of silence, he let out a lengthy breath of air. "Do you want to do it with Ted, Cody?" Rhodes nodded profusely into the center of Randy's back. "Are you scared he'll hurt you like he did before?" Rhodes nodded once again, this time with less vigor. "Have you talked to him about your fears?"

This time, Cody did not nod at all. The non-verbal reply should have been the cue for Randy; however he was cut short of getting past the thought stage as Cody ceased his heavy sobs momentarily to garner the will to speak. "I haven't." His voice spilled out in a barely-there tone. "I don't want him to hate me." He removed his head partially from digging into Randy's spine. "I don't want him to throw me away."

The bike came to a slow halt at the signal of a red light. Randy rested his feet on the hard asphalt for a moment. He glanced to Cody over his shoulder – finding the young brunette's eyes looking down to space between them – before refocusing on the traffic signal.

"Ted won't do that, Cody." Rhodes' heart missed a beat to the conviction in Randy's words. His eyes – wet with tears – looked to the back of Randy's head. "Talk to him, and you'll see how much he truly loves you." With his feet returned to their original position, Randy pushed the bike forward in accordance with the green signal. "Nothing gets solved without communication. Remember that Cody."

Beneath a new found set of tears, Cody managed to stutter out the word "Okay" before he caved to the feel of the once heavy burden lifting off his shoulders.

Randy smirked inside the casing of his helmet. "I'll take you home."

This was a surprise. The fact that his helmet came off with so much resistance as opposed to when it went on did not serve to surprise Cody. Rather what had him standing in the driveway of Ted's city house, coated completely in a metallic shell of shock was the fact that the last person he expected to see sitting on the nearby steps was the person he saw sitting there on the cold concrete. Having gotten over the sight, Cody was sent another wave when he came to realize that this was the first time – ever – he had seen Ted so close to the ground.

"You're back." Ted's voice came in with the coldness equally situated in his eyes.

"I'm sorry." After taking a gulp of air (fully expecting it to be his last) Cody stepped forward, but stopped when he got too close. "I won't runaway like that again, so please don't be mad at—."

"Didn't I tell you that I can never be mad at you?" Ted frowned – further frightening the already scared shitless brunette – before standing to his feet, positioning himself a few inches away from Cody. His hands kept to his side while he cut Cody off once again. "Didn't I promise that I'd never hurt you again?"

"Y-Yes." Cody spoke sheepishly.

"I'm not the same foolish brat that I was, Cody." His voice rose slightly, "I've changed because of you. I've changed _for_ you."

"I-I know." Cody fumbled, "B-But…I just…" Instantly, he bowed his head, and covered his face with his hands "My body won't let me forget."

Ted's expression instantly lightened to a soft sigh. "Is it hopeless then?" His eyes saddened, "Is there no way I can erase that mistake?"

Cody slowly released his face to look at the blonde ahead of him. Years passed by – and still would pass by – and still Ted DiBiase was the most gorgeous person Cody had ever seen. And such a mystical being loved a simple, common soul who feared the dark. For the purpose of keeping them alive, Cody gathered courage from a seemingly dry well, and took another step forward. It turned out to be all he needed to do to now be in striking range of Ted. Once there, despite his body' sporadic shakes, Cody put out one arm, followed by another, and hugged the utterly stunned blonde.

"Cody" Ted begun, but feeling the tremors exuding from Cody's body curved his sentence, "It's okay" He spoke quietly. "You can let go."

"No." Cody clung tightly for effect. "I've never wanted anything before because I was always afraid. But, even though my body's scared, nothing will ever change if I don't let it." He placed his head into the cup of Ted's shoulder. "So," He tightened his hold, "I want you to let go of your own fear Ted, and do to me what you should have back then."

Ted stayed silent as his mind tried to collect all the data and sort it out accordingly. Once he came to an understanding of Cody's instructions, he moved his own arms and held the younger man firmly. "We'll take it slow." His forehead fell to the weight of his mind, and rested snugly on Cody's thin shoulder. "Okay?"

Cody smiled, "Okay."

**The Root Of All Evil (Epilogue)**

The longer John thought about it, the more he came to realize how right Chris Jericho was. He was, quite literally, a wicked man.

In Cena's defense, the blonde never once went out of his way to be such a despicable person. Rather, it seemed that the years of being on the receiving end of torment had finally caught up with him. So much so that he finally caved into the desire to – at least once –dish back the same kind of medicine. Considering the outcome – the missing motorbike outside their apartment served as damning evidence of the fact – this 'once' turned out to be a 'last' as well. Never again could he be so cruel. It was not as though the blonde truly wished to have another opportunity – having none suited him just fine actually – but even the laws of reaction ensured that by having Randy take off (after socking John squarely in the jaw) and probably not come back. To the thought, John shook his head violently as though to remove the tick-like thoughts now infesting his mindset.

"If you have fleas, I've got a shampoo at home." John looked ahead to see the source of such a harsh tone. Staring back, deadpan, was Chris Jericho. "Evan uses it on Boomer. It stinks like hell though, but the vet recommended it." His eyes blinked at the rate of 'I-give-zero-fucks-about-you-right-now' speed. "So, if you have lice—"

"I don't have lice." John stated bluntly to kill the issue. He folded his arms in annoyance. "But anyways, what in the hell are you doing here?"

"I like the coffee they serve here." To amplify the issue, Chris took another sip of the coffee sat ahead of him.

John rolled his eyes. "You don't have any real business being here on campus Chris." He leaned back in his chair. "So why are you here?"

Jericho stared at his emptying cup, before placing it back down onto the table. His eyes followed the movement like a hawk. "Not that it's any of _your _business, but I'm here for Evan."

"Don't you normally stake out at the entrance?" Cena coughed up a small smile. "Don't tell me you're yearning for a piece of the College action?"

"I never liked College." Jericho's harsh blues went to John. "And besides, the way I see it, you won't be getting any action after saying something like that."

John's smile fell to a frown. "I didn't want to say it." He looked away to his left for a moment, "It just came out."

"You don't just blurt out 'this is boring' while your boyfriend's riding you." Jericho picked up his cup. "Especially when your boyfriend is a temperamental convert named Randy Orton."

John watched as Chris took another long drink of his coffee – silently wondering how cold it must have been by now – before sighing away the rightness of Chris' words. The whole incident happened just a few hours ago, but to John it may as well have been years. Having finally managed to get into this kind of relationship with a once unrequited love in Randy Orton, John knew for certain how happy he had been. However, the consequence of waiting so long to act created a crater-sized sexual desire in John (he had slept with far too many gay men), which Randy seemed unable to fill. It was nowhere near the brunette's fault. After all, he had been straight for nearly all his life. However, as much as John tried to be patient, his limits had been surpassed earlier today and as such, the blonde said something he wished he could take back.

'This is boring'.

Immediately, John tried to bury the sound of those words that played over in his head. Doing so, unfortunately, brought up the pained expression that sat on Randy's face the moment his ears processed what John had said. In essence, the younger man looked as though he were about to burst into a fountain of tears. This of course would have been completely acceptable for John (seeing that he could then easily rebut and clarify in that instant), however he had not fallen for the average man. He had fallen for – in Chris' words – a temperamental convert in Randy Orton. So, although the brunette looked like he was about to break down into tears and sobs, his pained expression served to just be the precursor to the hellish anger that splattered over his expression. John watched, then, in horror, as his boyfriend got up (somewhat in pain; today was the first time they had tired a new position) only to punch his lights out with a swift and heavy right hook. When Cena came to, the apartment was empty, and the missing motorbike meant one thing. Randy was long gone.

John felt sour about himself. /How could I say that to him?/ He frowned in thought. /I'm so stupid!/ Once more, his mind conjured up another replay of today's happenings, however, John countered by shaking his head to rid himself of the impending doom.

Chris looked on stoically. "You've got lice."

John looked at him angrily – stopping his head movement for emphasis. "No I don't." He spoke in a hard tone. "I'm just…" He stopped to debrief himself on what he was, before continuing on. "I was so hung up on what I was used to, that I forgot that none of it was Randy's style. Things like seduction, positioning, desire…none of that ever mattered to Randy. He's the kind of guy who'll just lie there and watch the other person work." He sighed heavily, "Without complaint, Randy managed to divert from what he's used to for my sake. And yet, because he wasn't conforming to my will fast enough, I spat in the face of his efforts." His voice immediately lowered, "I just want to tell him how sorry I am for being so damn selfish."

"Then apologize." Jericho spoke rigidly.

"He left on his motorbike." His voice clambered closer to a dry tone "I don't know where he went."

"Then call him."

"He left his phone."

Chris sighed in defeat. He rubbed his temple before looking to John and sighing again. The poor bastard looked more pitiful than a sick Boomer. "Look, I don't think Randy's gone far. He's got to come back. If not to your place, then at least back to this campus." The older blonde leaned onto the table with his elbows set to fold his arms atop the wooden contraption. "I don't know Randy, but you do. And since you do, I think you also believe that in the end, he'll come back to you."

John solemnly nodded in thought. Chris took the incentive to stand and leave the table. He simply patted the blonde on the outskirts of his board shoulder as he passed by to exit the small café. John followed with his eyes for a moment to catch Chris standing ahead of Evan Bourne, having greeted the youngster with a long hug. They stood talking for a while before Chris planted a small kiss on Bourne's lips (forcing the brunette's face to light up). Cena smiled a bit as the two turned to leave. This was the cue for John to return his vision to the empty table. For a long while, John sat in his chair, his plug long since disconnected from the world, before the sounds of his ring tone brought him back to. Instantly, he jolted to life and answered.

"Hello?" A low voice echoed through the phone.

"Randy?" John bellowed.

"Yeah. It's me."

His heart froze in place as he numbed to the overwhelming joy. He clutched the phone to his ear. "Randy, I'm so sorry." John's voice sped to the out pour of rapid thoughts. "I never meant what I said, I just spoke without thinking. I don't think this, us, is boring. I love you Randy. I'm so sorry."

"I know. I love you too." A pause ensued. "I'm not mad anymore John."

He closed his eyes tightly in an effort to push back the oncoming tears. Pitiful or not, this was his first lovers quarrel with Randy– and until now, based on Randy's record of tossing people on a whim, he had assumed it would be his last. "Are you coming back?" He knew he had no right to ask, but it seemed to be unavoidable.

The pause that followed was near soul-crushing. The sigh that came after was ten times worse. "No." John felt his heart stop entirely as his expression sold utter shock. "I'm at the park near our Alma Mater."

A pulse soon returned as John thought hard on where Randy was referring to, before recalling the spot where he and the brunette had made their relationship official. That little park by the lake. A smile overtook his face. "Okay." He spoke gently, "I'll come by and we can talk then."

"And you can beg for my forgiveness." Randy chipped in soothingly. John laughed lightly. A silence followed before Randy spoke again. "I'll wait."

John nodded, knowing full well that the man on the other line would never know.

**Sleepwalking (Epilogue)**

Hunter stared out the large window of his over sized office. His mind was literally nowhere. It was – for once in his entire life – completely blank.

/Inner peace at last/ The thought stood correct as Hunter came to the realization that he lacked absolutely nothing in his life in this moment, and as such, was relieved of worldly worries. His hazel eyes coolly watched the sun set to the official first day of summer vacation. After today, the school population would decrease dramatically. Some, like Mark Calaway, would never return. Others, like Chris Jericho, would come back when their schedule permitted it. And Hunter Helmsley would still be here, at this window, until the last brick of this great Academy crumbled and rotted away.

"Hunter?"

To his name, the large blonde turned around (rather stiffly thanks to a suit his ex-wife had offered to wash for him as a way to make amends for being the one who spilled red wine on it at the family Christmas get together (it took Shawn and three other men to hold him back from beating the smug look off Stephanie's face). In truth, Hunter was never really mad at the stain. He was mad at the stain left on the tie that Shawn had picked out for him when they went shopping together.

"Hey Shawn." Hunter smiled as he made a gesture to the chair ahead of his desk. Shawn, naturally, sat on the edge of the desk (a habit he had picked up somewhere along the lines of their rekindled relationship). "Gave Mark your regards?"

"I did." Shawn smiled – although rather sadly at first – as he recalled saying goodbye to a friend he always believed would be here forever. "And I saw two former students roaming around."

"Oh?" Hunter asked as he took a seat in his own chair – pulling it closer to the desk so as to be closer to Shawn. "Who?"

"Cody and Randy." His smile leveled to normalcy. "Cody had come by to revisit his dorm. He looked estranged, but before I could check on him, I saw him get on Orton's motorbike and take off."

"Randy will take care of him I'm sure." Hunter chuckled lightly, "That kid…as bad as he is, he has a heart of gold."

Shawn nodded in agreement, "Hunter" The older blonde looked at him brightly. He held his tongue for a moment – taking in the eager expression of his companion – before bursting out into a belly-aching laugh.

Hunter, quite surprised, stuttered on his words. "S-Shawn, what's wrong?" He held onto the man's upper arm – gently – "What's so—"

Before any more words could be said, Shawn swiftly swooped down to meet Hunter halfway, and entrapped his word-ready lips in a deep kiss. The older man sat stunned by Shawn's unexpected boldness – so stunned that even after it was all said and done, he still could not remove the look on his face.

"You'll never change." Hunter blinked rapidly as his face molded to confusion. Shawn eased the tension by placing a kind hand on the side of the older man's face – taking care to rub his fingertips over the naked flesh as though they were aiming to do the job of a snake's tongue. "No matter how many years pass us by," His smile thinned, "You'll always be the same Hunter."

The older man smirked slightly, "Is that a bad thing?"

"Nope." Shawn shook his head for emphasis. "I like this version of you."

"Version, you say." Hunter scoffed. "Makes me feel old."

A steady questioning expression sat on Shawn's face. Hunter had seen it many times before, and so, leaned forward to give the man a shocking kiss of his own in order to bypass the inevitable why.

From a close range, he spoke, "And since we're old, I don't think either one of us can go off and do our own thing." He smiled thinly, "We retire here together."

Shawn's juvenile smile came back in full swing. He nodded silently as Hunter came in to deliver one final kiss – the start, Shawn new, of many more to come.


End file.
